


It was her duty

by orphan_account



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Sister Michael is more than a sarcastic teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 05:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18564946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She knew none of the girls would ever believe that she actually did care what happened to them and that it was more than just a job, no matter what her hardened exterior let on.





	It was her duty

**Author's Note:**

> Just some thoughts I had about Sister Michael put into a short fic

Sister Michael sighed as she sat down in front of the student files that were becoming all too familiar. It was only days since the declaration of the cease-fire, and they were already going back to normal. Those first few days had been blissful; even the wee first years knew that something bigger than them was going on in their home. Nobody acted out.

Yet here she sat, on the last day of term, getting ready to phone their parents.

 

How the apple could have fallen so far from the tree with Michelle Mallon and her mother, she would never understand. Deidre had been with her at school and never got into any trouble. No underage drinking or smuggling vodka into an exam in a water bottle. No rifling through anyone’s handbags. No handing in English homework filled with profanity and innuendo. Scratch that, not innuendo, it wasn’t that clever. All she could hope for was that Michelle would mellow out soon if she wanted a job straight after school.

As much of a menace as she was, she did spark a little liveliness into the place- and wherever she ended up after leaving the care of Our Lady Immaculate, would benefit from that little spark too. Michelle wasn't all that bad.

 

 

Clare Devlin was an unknown to her, to be honest; her mother wasn’t from Derry, so she had no clue what to expect. When she saw her work, she had assumed she wouldn’t be a problem, but it seemed like she went along with whatever the others did, and that seemed spineless.

And she had lost all respect for her after she ratted out Michelle.

But if she had realised the school newspaper’s story about the lesbian would out Clare to the whole school, she would have cracked down on it long before then, but at the time, she was glad even Erin’s misguided attempt to support gay rights was making a wave in Derry. A wave she hoped would continue to wash around Northern Ireland.

Then Clare wouldn’t have to resort to becoming a nun like she had.

 

She had nearly hoped that the wee English fella would want to keep a low profile in an all-girls school. But evidentially, that wasn’t the case.

 

Erin Quinn was quite possibly one of the most challenging students she’d ever had, with her backchat and the face that moved about in the most unimaginable and confusing ways. For some reason, she had thought Erin would be different too- her mother, Mary was always easy to get along with, and didn’t go out of her way to get in trouble. But maybe that’s why Erin had to rebel against that and get involved in any type of justice she could. After all, everyone did turn into their parents when they grew up.

Even though she knew Mary was a good woman, she hoped Erin would take a leaf from her father’s book- and grow into someone even more compassionate but logical. One Mary Quinn was all the world could handle.

 

Ever since word had found her that Sarah McCool was raising a little girl all on her own, she had wondered what she would be like. The lack of a father wasn’t the bit that concerned her- she’d turned out just fine, herself. But the fact that she might take after her mother’s side-tracked, yet sweet mind worried her deeply with the way the school was heading. Girls were getting into more trouble now; she’d heard rumours of some of the older ones joining the IRA, and wondered if they really knew the risks they were taking, or just felt like it was the only thing they could do. Her worries were only confirmed when Orla sat in her office for the first time, looking much more childlike than a girl of her age, a bag of sweets tucked away in her pockets, with no socks on and her hair in pigtails.

She already knew she didn’t want Orla to get hurt, in any way- not like her mother. 

 

 

She knew none of the girls would ever believe that she actually did care what happened to them and that it was more than just a job, no matter what her hardened exterior let on. But they were all going out into a terrifying world, even now, with the ceasefire waving it’s bright white flag over the city- and she could remember all too well how that felt.

 

Yes.  
Sister Michael cared for her community. It was her duty.


End file.
